


Eyes On You

by KatrinaEagle



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Brotherhood: Final Fantasy XV, Friendship, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:02:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28388223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatrinaEagle/pseuds/KatrinaEagle
Summary: Noctis takes note.Ever since the fat kid quite literally fell into his life, Noctis had filed the encounter away neatly into his brain. It was a thing he has been trained to do: remember people, remember names, remember positions. Remember promises, allegiances, oaths. All the things that could win him favour or make him enemies when it came the time for him to take the crown.He doesn’t do anything with the information except keep it, just in case. But now, Prompto Argentum, for better or worse, is on his radar.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum & Noctis Lucis Caelum, Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 7
Kudos: 84





	Eyes On You

Noctis takes note.

Ever since the fat kid quite literally fell into his life, Noctis had filed the encounter away neatly into his brain. It was a thing he has been trained to do: remember people, remember names, remember positions. Remember promises, allegiances, oaths. All the things that could win him favour or make him enemies when it came the time for him to take the crown.

He doesn’t do anything with the information except keep it, just in case. But now, Prompto Argentum, for better or worse, is on his radar.

* * *

So far, Noctis thinks he’s made some pretty good notes.

Prompto is a bit of a mess. He doesn’t seem to have any friends, instead choosing to engross himself in the cheap handheld camera during break times. He doesn’t seem bothered by it either, even when his classmates shove him by accident.

He has a rotation of eight shirts and three pants. None of them seem to be particularly fashionable choices of clothing. Two of the shirts are chocobo-themed.

His best subject is math. This fact surprised Noctis, because half the time Prompto didn’t seem to be paying attention in class. But math comes easily to the blonde and his homework is neat and unlaboured.

His worst subject is history. Noctis can’t blame him, especially with how their teacher merely reads aloud from the textbook. Prompto naps liberally in history, and the teacher is none the wiser.

Prompto has performance anxiety. He forgets how to solve for _x_ the moment Ms Algort calls him up to the blackboard. Noctis can see the panic in his grey-blue eyes and the shake of his hands. He drops the chalk twice. He messes up the formula. He shakes harder when the class stifles their giggles. When he walks back to his desk at the back of the room, Noctis can tell that he’s trying not to cry.

* * *

To avoid the rush of students, Noctis hangs back in class until most of his classmates have left, then leaves the school by the side door.

Sometimes, Prompto follows him.

Noctis pretends not to notice that anxious face peeking at him, though he obviously does. He also notices that Prompto isn’t the best at trying to hide. Behind a lamp post? Really?

Noctis isn’t sure why Prompto doesn’t just talk to him. The rest of his class certainly has no problem with coming up and asking invasive questions. Yet each time Prompto follows him to the side gate, he seems to have some sort of internal struggle, emotions flitting across his ruddy round face, before he turns back to the school grounds.

Noctis spends the car ride back to the Citadel conjuring wild theories about his odd classmate.

* * *

Noctis notices that Prompto only brings an assortment of bulk candy for the year-end Winter Solstice class party. Most of the class brought various baked goods; casseroles and pasta salads and egg sandwiches and giant cookies dyed blue. Noctis himself had brought a boxful of hors d'oeuvres, prepared by the Citadel chef, though they forgoed the caviar dumplings at the last minute at Ignis’ gentle advice. It was barely an inconvenience, but with the way his classmates praised the food, Noctis started to wonder uncomfortably if perhaps he should have brought something simpler, like deviled eggs or store-bought pizza.

While he himself swiped a handful of candy (Ignis would have never let that stuff anywhere near his mouth), Prompto’s paper plate was carefully laden with the much less popular coleslaw, potato salad, and a handful of cherry tomatoes.

Prompto chews slowly, staring a hole into his plate with a funny determined look, away from the chattering cliques. He avoids looking at the other kids; some on their third helping of lasagna, some trading fried chicken wings for the garlic baked scallops, some cheerfully mixing together the five different kinds of soda into a plastic cup.

When Prompto finishes his food, he meticulously wipes down his desk and throws everything away in the big trash bag, then gets his camera out to take photographs of his classmates, humoring the girls’ needs to check the pictures for the best shot and the guys’ ridiculous funny faces. More than once Prompto was pulled in take a selfie- (“C’mon, Prompto, it’s not fair that you’re not in the picture too!”) and though the blonde would first decline shyly, he would later allow himself to join the group and flash the biggest, brightest smile for his camera.

* * *

Noctis notices him once, over winter break, when Ignis was driving him to a charity house at the edge of the city, where he was supposed to spend a day with the orphans.

Prompto was rounding the corner in a loose t-shirt and basketball shorts, red-faced and drenched in sweat, panting heavily. He had a wild look on his face, but his eyes were steady and bright with unflinching purpose.

Days later, Noctis finds himself thinking back to that moment, wondering what could have gotten the blonde so worked up like that.

* * *

When spring rolls around the next year, Noctis notices that Prompto’s PE uniform is way too loose on the young blonde.

Noctis also notes, with a bit of surprise, that Prompto is _fast_. He breezes past the gaggle of girls during running practice, trailing steadily behind the kids on the basketball team, keeping pace with the girls on the volleyball team. He doesn’t complain when the coach yells at the class to do another lap. While his classmates groan and grumble, Prompto is already forging ahead, eyebrows knitted.

Noctis can’t remember if Prompto has ever been that fast. Noctis is pretty sure he hasn’t, though. He would have noticed.

* * *

Noctis returns to school after a summer break of royal etiquette lessons, Gladio’s ruthless training sessions, and Ignis’ extensive political reports. He doesn’t feel the same excited buzz as his classmates, flitting around exchanging stories of beach trips and summer flings.

He notices, after a while, the lack of a certain sort of quiet glow, and wonders if Prompto is late on the first day back.

When the homeroom teacher walks in and calls roll, Noctis realizes as his heart sinks that this year, Prompto’s not in his class.

* * *

Noctis still manages to keep updated with Prompto, in general. It’s not that hard when Prompto is one of the only kids with a shock of blonde hair in a sea of varying shades of brunettes.

Prompto is in the next class over. As far as Noctis can tell, he’s more or less the same: still sitting in the back row, clicking away on his camera during breaks. But he smiles easily now, and seems to have a good rapport with his classmates. He doesn’t eat lunch alone all the time. He seems happier.

Noctis is happy for him.

* * *

Prompto joins the track team halfway into the school year. Evidently, Noctis wasn’t the only one who noticed that he was fast.

The good thing about this new schedule was that Noctis had a bit of entertainment during lunchtimes and after school. He could count on watching Prompto’s antics to cheer him up each day.

Prompto was nothing if not entertaining, after all. Even far away, his mop of blonde hair would move with energy as he bobbed along the track at a cruise or did his set of jumping jacks. Noctis would never admit it, but he found great amusement at watching Prompto’s expressive face. No one around him had that sort of freedom, and Noctis’ schooled indifference was learned from years of politics and etiquette training. Only Gladio really belly-laughed, and that was only with Iris in private.

Prompto wore his heart on his sleeve, face open for everyone to read.

* * *

Noctis’ winter is miserable. His father’s health has taken a turn for the worse. Despite the stubborn man brushing off concerns for his health, Noctis can tell in the way he leans heavier on the gilded cane each day and the tightness in the corner of his eyes.

All he wanted was to spend a few days fishing with his father to remember happier, simpler days, but Regis had instructed Ignis to ramp up Noctis’ royal responsibilities, leaving everyone frustrated and unsatisfied.

Noctis wanted nothing more than to set the whole of Niflheim just so he won’t need to read any more political reports about the nation. Despite the gnawing anger, he picks up Ignis’ carefully summarized report and reads.

* * *

Spring brings a change of pace. The warming of the weather proved beneficial to Regis’ health and Noctis’ mood, the tenseness within the Citadel melting away with the last of the winter frost.

Noctis finds himself in high spirits, enjoying the crisp spring air on the rooftop during lunch break. He had taken to squirreling his time away there to avoid his classmates who seem particularly insistent on bringing him chocolates.

Out of habit, he casts his eyes over the school field, absently searching for a head of blonde hair.

He finds Prompto, taking to the track with ease, gliding across it at a steady pace. The blonde actually managed to make the school tracksuit look halfway decent, his wiry frame filling in the shoulders rather nicely.

Briefly, Noctis wonders if Prompto still took photos.

* * *

As if to make up for the frigid winter, the summer months bloomed hot and steady. Noctis takes every opportunity to fish in the Citadel lakes with his father.

Even as Ignis frets over unread reports and skipped training sessions, the advisor wishes that the two could spend more moments basking in the sun, enjoying their precious time together.

Gladio hears from his father that even King Regis’ mood has been incredibly mellow, especially on days after a fishing session with Noctis. Gladio makes sure that his training sessions never run late that summer.

* * *

As the weather turns cold again, Noctis notices that his classmates seem to be in a rather melancholy sort of mood.

It wasn’t until a career aptitude test landed on his desk that he realizes they’re sad about leaving school. He also realizes, with a fleeting sense of jealousy, that his classmates have their whole future wide open, as blank as the paper in front of them.

His homeroom teacher gives him a sheepish look and advises him to have fun with it.

Noctis daydreams about spending his days fishing at a lake far, far away from Insomnia. Maybe Leide. Or even Cleigne.

He spots the usual head of blonde hair out of the corner of his eye. Prompto has his nose buried in a small handbook and a similar sheet of paper tucked underneath an elbow. His brown shirt hung loosely around the shoulders, pooling near his elbows comically. It’s one of his rotation of eight shirts. Noctis wonders whether Prompto would pursue a career in photography.

On his career aptitude test, he prints in neat handwriting: _114th King of Lucis_.

* * *

Noctis doesn’t really bid anyone farewell on the last day of middle school. He nods at a few people; classmates who kept a respectful distance but never acted weird around him and his teachers who smiled kindly at him but never demanded more of him.

He moves quietly past the groups of girls who were shedding tears into each other’s shoulders, claiming to stay in touch and be best friends forever. He doesn’t have friends like that.

Yet, as he walks through the gates for the last time, he can’t help but feel a little sad himself. It would be nice to have someone to share such memories with. Absently, he wonders if Prompto had already left school.

He forgets about his disappointment in not seeing the usual blonde hair when he slides into Ignis’ waiting car.

* * *

The whispers start the moment he steps foot into high school. Ignis had cautioned him that high school was a whole different ballgame than middle school, but Noctis realizes belatedly that he had most definitely underestimated how different it would be.

Who knew that teenagers would change so much after just one spring break?

Noctis wishes he was more familiar with the new school so he can find a quiet place to relax, away from prying eyes. Instead, he walks casually away from the cafeteria and crowds, wishing for a familiar face. At least in middle school, most people knew to leave him alone.

He hears someone shout for him and punch him lightly on the arm.

Noctis wasn’t sure who he was expecting, but it certainly was not Prompto. At least, not Prompto as he stood before him, wiry and lean, finally in a school uniform that fit him well.

“I’m Prompto! Nice to meet you!”

Of course he knew it was Prompto. Prompto Argentum, though he was no longer the fat kid who tripped and fell face-first into dirt behind the middle school gymnasium. Prompto Argentum, who lost all that weight and made his way onto the middle school track team and became one of the fastest runners of his year.

Prompto Argentum, looking right at him with the brightest smile on his face.

Noctis smiles back at the familiar face.

“Don’t I know you?”

-fin.-

**Author's Note:**

> I thought I would start writing fics for Genshin Impact, but it turns out my whole brain is still full of Promptis.
> 
> I absolutely adore Brotherhood era Prompto, he is a darling and should have had more friends.


End file.
